Page 9 of My Fearless Mountain Man
My breath catches. I arch slightly, guiding his hand—myhand—lower, until my nightgown bunches at my hips. The fabric slips against my thighs as my fingertips find the damp heat between them. My panties are soaked, and the pressure of imagining his fingers there—his weight, his presence—makes everything sharper.
I stroke slowly, like he would. Not rushed, not teasing. Just steady and sure.
Heat curls through my core as I press into the touch, rocking my hips in quiet desperation. My free hand fists thesheets beside me. My body’s alive with tension, my thighs trembling as the pressure builds.
“Calder,” I whisper, mouth dry, heart racing.
I turn my head slightly, as if I can kiss the sharp edge of his jaw. I can almost hear his breath in my ear, feel the warmth of it against my skin.
“Just take it, Nora,” he says, voice thick and low. “Let yourself feel it. I’ll take care of you.”
I gasp softly as I slide two fingers beneath my panties, slick and needy. I imagine him there, kneeling between my thighs, lifting the hem of my nightgown, spreading me open with a look that says I’m his.
His mouth finds my breast, tongue circling my nipple before his lips close around it, sucking just enough to make my back arch. At the same time, his fingers—myfingers—slip inside me.
Deep. Curling.
I cry out, barely biting it back.
He strokes that sensitive spot again and again, and I meet each thrust with a roll of my hips, chasing the friction, the rhythm, the edge.
My legs tremble as heat builds at the base of my spine, spiraling tighter, hotter. My breath comes in fast, shallow bursts. The sheets twist beneath my fists. My toes curl.
“That's it,” I imagine him saying, his voice like gravel and smoke. “Just like that. Let go for me. Come for me.”
The orgasm hits hard—hot, shaking, unstoppable. My body bucks against my own hand, thighs squeezing tight as waves roll through me, pulling me under.
I breathe his name into the quiet.
Still trembling, I pull the sheets up over my chest and press my hand to my pounding heart.
It was my hand.
But it was his name.
And I’ve never wanted someone the way I want Calder.
Chapter 6 - Calder
Why is she still stuck in my head a full day later? Why can’t I stop thinking about that damn smile, her warm laugh, tugging the braids in her hair and unraveling them as I pull her under me and finish all the half-dirty thoughts that she spelled out in her letter?
I finally read it – most of it.
Then I was ashamed of picturing her like that, spread out on my bed, watching me with a mix of hope and lust so potent that I didn’t want to resist. I could practically hear my name dripping from her tongue on a moan as she wrapped herself around me.
I snort quietly and keep working, clearing the trail one rock and broken branch at a time. These paths cut close to where the fire hit years ago. It’s hard to tell now—nature moved fast—but I still see the signs. Saplings where old giants once stood. Burned-out stumps hidden beneath wildflowers. Meadows where there should’ve been shade.
I look up—and there she is.
Nora.
She’s here, now, sitting on the edge of the trail with one leg stretched out, staring down at a bloody knee like it personally betrayed her. Not her ankle this time. Her knee’s scraped raw, and from the look on her face, she’s more annoyed than hurt.
I close my eyes for a second and exhale through my nose.
Another day. Another unexpected run-in with Nora.
Six days and she’s still here.
